Keeping the Memories at Bay
by SkarsgardStew
Summary: I lost everything I had in that accident, my husband, my unborn child, my life. I can't ever get it back and I can't move on, but I can try and I will try. *Dark and tragic fic full of hurt, possibly a tear jerker. Tissues may be necessary*


Keeping the Memories at Bay

I sat in the psychiatrist's room waiting for Mrs. Whitlock to come and see me. Today was my first appointment after the accident in which I lost everything. I'd become a total recluse since I got out of hospital and my dad was thinking of sectioning me; he didn't say it to me, but I knew he was worried enough to think it. I pulled my grey sweater over my arms to hide the scars from Mrs. Whitlock as she entered the room and walked in. She had an intriguing aura around her, as if I should be the one asking her questions rather than the other way around. She sat down in front of me with a notepad and a pen on her lap.

"Mrs. Swan, what are you expecting from this session?" She enquired, picking up the notepad and pen and clicking the pen to release the ball point.

"Um, well I don't know." You see the psychiatrist set up in movies a lot. The chaise long and wall of books were absent from the room I was sitting in now, instead it was a simple Alaska blue painted room with canvases painted with soft colours. Cheesy motivational pictures also appeared on the walls. "I really don't know. I guess I'm expecting you to ask me questions and for me to try and answer them." She nodded and smiled as I fidgeted in the worn red seat.

"Well, Mrs. Swan that's wonderful. Can you tell me why you're here?" She crossed one leg over the other, showing me her Christian Louboutin black court shoes.

"To help pay for your expensive shoes? No really, my dad sent me here because he's worried and he clearly doesn't care how much it costs if you're wearing designer gear." She uncrossed her legs and scowled at me as she scribbled on her pad.

"And, Mrs. Swan, why is your father worried about you?"

"Do you have to ask so many questions? I thought the point in this was for me to open up to you and settle the memories I have, or at least keep the memories at bay. How about making things less formal? You're a fucking stranger to me, how can I open up to a fucking stranger?"

"Fine, Mrs. Swan, I'm Jasmine Whitlock, I'm 38 and a half, married with two children and I do a job like this because I want to help people like you get over their troubles, or at least on the way from their troubles. My friend's told me when I was younger that I had a knack for making people relaxed, so I went into training and here I am. Now it's your turn, Mrs. Swan."

"First of all, stop calling me 'Mrs. Swan', its Bella. I'm 25, I lost my baby and my husband in a car accident a few years ago and now I'm a fucking social recluse who doesn't belong in this fucking world." Jasmine smiled at me, a tad patronising.

"That's wonderful Bella, wonderful that you can tell me. Do you want to tell me more?" I shook my head; a waterfall of teardrops filled my eyes.

"Why me? Why the fuck did I have to survive without him? I wouldn't have minded so much if I had a single piece of him, but I don't. Everything we owned was in that truck... and it all went up in flames. I couldn't even save the darn number plate!" I curled up on the sofa, crying, hiding my face from the world and going back in my head to the day before the crash. "He was perfect, absolutely perfect. His golden hair wouldn't move no matter what you did to it; I remember one Christmas we put a few boxes on his head, and when he took them off his hair just bounced back. We had hours of fun with that, just mucking around. And now he's gone, and not just him but every little thing I had to do with him." Jasmine passed me a box of tissues, taking one for herself.

"I'm so sorry, Bella, but I've got to ask you everything I feel is going to help you; you must understand that. What happened in this car accident, Bella? How did you lose your husband and child?" She dabbed at her eyes, scribbling more down on her pad.

"A fire." I whispered, barely audible. I could never say those words aloud. The poison that so quickly took my life and left me here as a bag of bones. A fire that caused so much devastation in a matter of minutes.

"Okay, thank you for this Bella. Care to continue?" I nodded slowly, thinking about the details of the fire and how I would arrange them all into words. I shook my head as the words jumbled up in my head and began to spin. One memory jumping around.

Did it go there? Or there? Wait, didn't this happen next? No? Well then where the fuck did it go Bella? Where's the fucking moment when your perfect little life became the fucking end of you and everything you know? Where the fuck is it Bella?

Jasmine motioned for me to speak.

"Um, well, me and my husband, Edward, we were going to move across America to Phoenix. I was five months pregnant and ready to start a new life away from my family, but on our road trip along the way we collided with a, um, with a, a uh, a... truck on a narrow bend... and then they were gone."

"Bella, you're doing great for a first session which is amazing. Already I can see you want to be a piece of who you were. We'll go into detail next week, if you're willing, but for now, can you tell me how you've dealt with this issue?" I pushed the sleeve of my jumper into my hands and done up my jacket.

"I don't talk to anyone about it. My dad... he wouldn't understand and I scared my friends away. I cut once or twice, but I thought I was going to die so I stopped. I wanted to die, I want to die. I can't leave my dad like that. I need to be with Edward. Nothing is right without him. I'm numb, severely so. You could kick a fucking puppy and I wouldn't flinch, before I'd cry, I'd cry a lot. I can't cry anymore. I'm all out of tears and that fucking hurts. When I see others mourn him they cry as if all their tears would make him come back, but I know they won't, so I don't cry. I stand there like a fucking idiot watching the world go by..." Jasmine looked at her watch, a total disregard for my feelings. I knew this lady was paid by the hour but to be honest, fucking looking at her watch to see how much time we had left was fucking rude.

"Okay, well that concludes this week's session. If you wish to call me I'm available most hours, it will cost your dad but he really seems prepared to help you. Next week can you bring in three songs that remind you of Edward, and colours you associate with how you feel about the accident? I'll see you next week Bella. Nice to meet you." I got up and left the room headed for my dad's car. We didn't speak to each other as words weren't necessary; he wouldn't understand how I was feeling anyway. He merely patted my shoulder before driving off towards his home.

**A/N:**my first attempt at a dark fic. Thoughts? Reviews?


End file.
